


Mall Trip

by violue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Trans Character, Transphobia, author is cis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6576970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violue/pseuds/violue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today is Sam's first time wearing a dress in public. She's nervous, but she has some very supportive people on her side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mall Trip

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last month, after someone I follow on twitter mentioned trans!Sam having a meet cute with Eileen _("ok but trans!Sam getting shit for going to the ladies room and Eileen decking the bigot. yes, I just proposed a bathroom meet cute")_. I never write Sam POV but for some reason the concept just grabbed me? I have been reluctant to post, though. I'm not trans. This is not my struggle. I don't want to step on any toes, or offend anyone. But I've gotten a few encouraging words from people that have read this today and when I first wrote it, and so I'm hoping for the best, I guess.
> 
> <3

Sam doesn't "pass". Some people, mostly uninformed people, think that the ultimate goal for any trans individual is to pass. It's not though, not for everyone, and it's certainly not for Sam. Sam's goal is just to be herself, and for people to see her as she is, not who they think she should be. With the people that love her the most, she’s made some slow but rewarding progress. Her mother and father don’t _understand_ necessarily, but they’re trying, they’re trying so hard, and that’s more than some parents would be willing to offer when they learn their son is not their son, was never really their _son_. They’re learning to accept the change in pronouns, and the idea that Sam’s sexuality hasn’t actually changed, because she was always a lesbian. They’re learning that Sam is still just Sam. Not Samantha, not Samuel, just Sam.

Dean, he did well with it. He apologized for twenty plus years of teasing Sam about “being a girl”, and Sam knows Dean never would have made so many jokes if he’d known how confused and sad it made her feel to hear them. She gave him a pretty stern lecture about how sexist it is to use “haha, you’re a girl” as an insult to _anyone,_ but she doesn’t blame Dean for not knowing something she spent years being unable to even admit to herself. Dean doesn’t care that his heterosexual little brother is actually a lesbian, because he knows that Sam is still Sam. He overcompensates, though. Sam knows Dean just wants to protect his younger sibling like always, but he’s primed for a battle when they go anywhere these days, ready to yell or even fight anyone who looks at Sam with anything even approaching disapproval.

Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen, they’re fine as long as Sam’s fine.

Jo, she’s helped Sam understand that embracing her gender identity doesn’t mean she has to run out in frilly pink dresses and heels— unless that’s what she _wants,_ because being a woman isn’t about clothes or hair, and Sam doesn’t have to get all gussied up just to prove she’s a woman, unless that’s something she’s interested in _._

Which she is. That’s what Sam’s doing today, actually.

For the most part, Sam’s wardrobe had stayed the same after she came out. She bought a few plaid shirts in pastel colors, just because she could now, and she sometimes wears a medium-length black skirt over her jeans, but that was kind of it until her thirtieth birthday last week, when her family came to her with a gift cards to a few stores, just in case she wanted some new things. After a long day of shopping with Jo and Dean, and learning what a pain in the ass her shoulders are when trying on women’s clothes, Sam has a pretty nice selection of things for all her moods.

Today is the first day she’s wearing a dress in public. It’s a sundress, long, white, with a lacy hem and delicate gold straps. In bright light it’s a bit on the see-through side, so Sam has a slip on underneath. Shoes are hard to find in her size, so she’s wearing a pair of golden gladiator sandals she found in the men’s section of a shoe outlet website. She’s got her nails and toes painted a beautiful rose color that she borrowed from Jo, and her legs are freshly waxed for the first time, because she _can_ have waxed legs if she wants. She’s not sure if she’s really a makeup kind of person, but it was nice putting on her favorite strawberry gloss without worrying Dean might laugh.

Dean and Jo took about a thousand photos of her before they left for the mall, and it’s been a long time since Sam felt so… free. Now that they’re at the mall though, it’s a little scarier.

People are definitely staring. It’s Kansas. Dean thinks they should move to San Francisco where Sam can be _Sam_ with a little less judgment, but Sam’s not ready to up and leave her home. Yeah, it’s scary, but she’s strong, and she’s got two tough-as-nails people by her side. Besides, not all the looks she’s getting are confused or disgusted. Two men walking hand and hand saw her and actually gave her big smiles and a thumbs up, a little girl broke away from her mother to tell Sam how pretty her dress was, and the mother didn’t look upset. It feels… hopeful.

Except right now Sam is terrified, because she has to pee. She drank a giant smoothie from Jamba Juice, and now she has to pee.

“So, go pee?” Dean says, not getting it. Jo gives him a significant _look,_ and he still doesn’t quite get Sam’s distress.

“Do you want me to come with?” Jo says, eyes full of understanding.

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Ah, Dean’s catching on. “We can go home?”

“But the movie starts soon,” Sam says, frowning at the giant cup on the table in front of her. Stupid Jamba Juice.

“Come on,” Jo says, standing, “I’ll go with you.”

Sam frowns. “No, I can… I’m going to do this myself.” Jo and Dean look at each other, then back at Sam. “It’s a _mall_ , no one’s going to— it’s fine. I can do this.”

She gets up and walks toward the bathroom at the edge of the food court, looking behind herself once to make sure Jo and Dean are staying put. They are, but Dean looks tense.

It’s fine. This is fine. It’s a bathroom. Sam would be more worried going into the men’s restroom, honestly. That’s what she usually does in public, actually. It feels like denying who she is, but she’s also spent her entire life using the men’s restroom so at least she’s used to it. In a dress, though… she’d rather risk peeing in the women’s room. There’s a “family restroom” that Sam could have used in private, but it’s been out of order for weeks, so for this mall in Kansas, it’s one restroom or the other.

As it turns out, the women’s restroom is empty. _Awesome._ Sam was all ready to be brave and assert her identity, but she’d also rather just have a good day.

She rushes into the stall to pee, and her heart sinks when she hears the sound of footsteps right as she’s about to flush. Damn. So close.

There are two other women in the room when she comes out of the stall, both working to clean what looks like ketchup out of a white cardigan. Sam keeps her head down, and she goes to the opposite side of the long row of sinks to wash her hands. No sooner has she squirted the soap onto her hand from the wall mount does she hear it.

“Are you a man?”

Sam sucks in a deep breath, switching on the water. “No,” she says. The hormones Sam is taking haven’t changed her voice, that’s something she has to do herself. She doesn’t care about “passing”, but she decided a few months ago that a softer voice would help people adjust to the transition, and honestly she just likes how she sounds with a more “feminine” voice.

“You look like a man to me,” the woman says, tone terribly unfriendly.

Sam finishes washing her hands and grabs a few sheets from the paper towel dispenser. “Well, I’m not,” she says, voice shaking as she turns to face the women. One of them seems to not have noticed the conversation at all; she’s still trying to get the fading red stain out of the cardigan, and her ponytail is swinging wildly with her aggressive scrubbing motions.

“I heard there’s a law coming to stop people like you from coming in here,” the first woman says. Her hair is set in loose, easy curls, she’s wearing lipstick that matches her pink dress, and Sam hates knowing that this cruel person can go into all the women’s restrooms she wants with no one questioning her right to be there.

“Well, maybe the law will pass, and you won’t have to worry about seeing me again,” Sam says bitterly. Maybe she should have brought Jo after all. Jo would probably come back with the perfect zinger, but all Sam can do is try to stand her ground.

The woman scrubbing away at the cardigan glances over at them, looking confused. She taps her companion on the shoulder and when they’re facing each other, she starts moving her hands. Oh, she’s signing something. She’s deaf. Her companion signs something in reply, and the woman’s face goes from confused to angry.

Sam knows very little American Sign Language, certainly not enough to follow their conversation, but they both seem agitated as their hands move with increasingly sharp movements.

Then suddenly the woman with the ponytail is punching her companion. Not hard enough to knock her on her ass, but enough to send her staggering back a few steps. The stricken woman storms closer, snatching the white cardigan out of her friend’s hands.

“Find your own way home!” she shouts, then she angrily signs something before she’s storming out of the bathroom.

The woman with the ponytail grimaces slightly, then shrugs and smiles at Sam. Wanting to convey her gratitude, Sam moves her hands in what she believes is the sign for “thank you.”

The woman’s smile grows. “That’s the sign for ‘cat’,” she says.

“You can talk!” Sam exclaims, then covers her face in horror. Who _says that_?

“I can’t hear, but I can talk,” the woman says.

“I am so, so sorry,” Sam says.

“You have to move your hand from your mouth, or I don’t know what you’re saying,” the woman says, voice still amused.

Oh, how embarrassing. “I just wanted to thank you. I’m not sure what you said to your friend, but… I appreciate it.”

“Oh, she’s not my friend, she’s my cousin. My very rude cousin, I am so sorry for how she treated you.”

“It’s okay, I know this is… it’s okay. I’m Sam,” Sam says.

“Sam?” the woman says, signing the letters absently.

Sam nods. “Yes, what’s your name?”

“Eileen.”

“ _Sam?!”_ Sam turns, and Jo is bursting into the restroom, looking panicked. She looks between Sam and Eileen. “Oh. Uh… sorry. I thought you were… I’ll be outside.” Jo backs away until she’s gone.

“Your girlfriend?” Eileen says, looking to the door and back to Sam.

“No, no. Jo is kind of like a cousin too. Very protective. I don’t have a girlfriend yet. I haven’t been... I’m still new at this.”

Eileen nods. She produces a paper and pen from her jacket, scribbling “Eileen Leahy” and a phone number on the page and holding it out to Sam. “I have to go, Sam, but if you ever need someone to talk to, please text me. I have a friend in Iowa that went through transition a few years ago, and I know how important it is to have people to talk to.”

Sam takes the paper, gobsmacked. “Wow… _thank you,_ ” she says emphatically. “Your friend, are they happy?”

“It was very scary for her, but she’s much happier as Hannah than she ever was as Hassan. I hope you are happy as Sam,” Eileen says as she walks out of the bathroom.

“I think I’m learning to be,” Sam says, slapping her forehead with her palm when she remembers Eileen can’t hear her.

When Sam comes out of the bathroom Eileen is already gone, but Dean and Jo are hovering anxiously by the door.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, looking like he’s checking Sam for signs of injury.

Sam rolls her eyes. “I’m fine, I just… made a new friend.”

“What, that chick that just left? Did you just pick up a girl in the bathroom?!” Dean says, snatching the paper out of Sam’s hand.

Sam yanks the paper back. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Dean snorts and starts walking back toward the food court. “Can’t believe I was worried about you, of course you’re just in there picking up dates.”

“You’re just mad because Sam has more game in her little finger than you have in your whole body,” Jo says, nudging Sam with her elbow.

Sam grins at Jo, then down at the paper in her hand. Fuck yeah, she has game.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you are confused about what "laws" the transphobic character was referring to, honestly all you have to do is Google "bathroom bill" and you'll have a pretty good idea of the bullshit some lawmakers are trying to pass in America right now. 
> 
> Let me know if you see any important errors. I've read this through a few times(obsessively, because on the first read through I realized I misgendered Sam THREE TIMES in my own damn story), but who knows what I've missed. Thank you for reading <3


End file.
